


Of Soup and Spies

by morwen_of_gondor



Series: Inspired By Empire Reimagined [4]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Cannot Cook, Cooking Lessons, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Humor, Mandalorian Culture, On the Run, Undercover Missions, kitchen mishaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26504296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morwen_of_gondor/pseuds/morwen_of_gondor
Summary: Living on the run entails new challenges for Jedi and clones alike. One of the greatest: cooking.This is in the same continuity asA Burden Shared.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & CT-7567 | Rex
Series: Inspired By Empire Reimagined [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898620
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	Of Soup and Spies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wishfulthinking1979](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wishfulthinking1979/gifts).
  * Inspired by [When the Mighty Don't Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26247226) by [Wishfulthinking1979](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wishfulthinking1979/pseuds/Wishfulthinking1979). 



> Inspired by Chapter 7 of _When the Mighty Don't Fall,_ in which it is mentioned that Rex demonstrates an unexpected talent in the kitchen. Here's my take on where and how he learned that.

There was a loud clatter from the improvised camp kitchen outside the tent, followed by a vehement, "Kriff!" and rapid thwapping noises, together with the floating smell of fire.

Rex repressed the instinctive shout of "HARDCASE!" — there were plenty of explanations for the noise he had just heard, but the reappearance of a dead _vod_ was not one of them — put down his datapad, and thrust his head out of the tent, to be greeted by the sight of Jedi General Anakin Skywalker batting furiously at a pot full of flames with his mech hand.

"Um…General?" he asked carefully, "Is that supposed to be on fire?"

With Skywalker, that was always a good question to ask before taking action. "No, it is kriffing not!" the General barked out, still ineffectively smacking at the growing fire.

Rex seized the pot, whose contents were probably beyond saving at this point, upended it onto the ground, and stamped the fire out. On closer inspection, the contents looked to have originally been noodles. 

"Thanks, Rex," Skywalker said, sounding relieved and swiping at the ash on his face with the mech hand, only to yank it away with a yelp — it must still have been hot. "I honestly don’t know how Padmé does this," he continued. "She said this recipe was easy."

"I think she has a stove, sir," Rex said wryly, looking at the small campfire.

"Point."

They both looked from the fire to the pot to the pasta ashes and back again. Rex broke the silence. "Perhaps I should cook dinner, sir."

Skywalker gave him the stink-eye (honestly, the man acted like a child sometimes), but said nothing and disappeared into the tent, leaving Rex with half a packet of dry noodles, a handful of small jars full of spices, and the aforementioned wreckage of Skywalker’s attempted cooking. _Right. How hard can it be?_

Obi-Wan, returning in triumph with the crew manifests for Darth Magnus’ battlegroup copied onto a datachip, arrived at their camp to find a rather unexpected state of affairs. Anakin, who had volunteered to cook supper, was currently nowhere to be seen. In his place, Commander Rex, who had been going over their last set of intel when Obi-Wan left, was sitting in front of the smouldering campfire with a pristinely scrubbed pot in front of him, scowling at a half-empty packet of pasta like it was a particularly well-defended Separatist stronghold.

"Need a hand, Captain?" Obi-Wan asked.

Rex looked up, and his scowl melted into relief as soon as he saw Obi-Wan. "Please."

Coming closer, Obi-Wan noticed that the missing half of the pasta had evidently been burned and then put out. "A previous effort?" he asked, gesturing at the ashes.

"General Skywalker," Rex grunted, having resumed scowling at the directions on the packaging.

"You would think he would have stopped trying now, honestly," Obi-Wan said, sitting down beside the clone. 

"This has happened before?" Rex asked.

"Oh, yes. I banned him from using the kitchen unsupervised after he tried to bake me a Life Day cake when he was twelve and got flour and sugar _everywhere,_ including in the teapot and the inner workings of the mixer. He’s all right with a grill, or making caf, but anything that involves a recipe is, well, a recipe for disaster."

Rex snorted. "Sounds like Hardcase. I think he tried to cook once, and I could keep the whole 501st under control by threatening to make them clean the kitchen for weeks after. I almost called General Skywalker 'Hardcase' when I smelled the fire and heard the swearing."

Obi-Wan clapped Rex briefly on the shoulder in sympathy. He was deeply grateful for the warning from Anakin that had enabled them to escape from Palpatine’s clutches with around a quarter of the 501st, but there was and would always be an absence where there should have been more men, both because of the horrible contingency order that had had them turning their blasters on each other and their commanders, and because of earlier campaigns like the one that had claimed Hardcase. Now was not a time to talk about that, however. They had grieved and would grieve, had fought and would fight, but for now there was dinner to be made. "Well, what seems to be the problem here?" he asked.

"Trying to figure out how General Skywalker managed to set it on fire before I try myself, actually, sir."

"If I had to guess, I would say that he put the pasta over the fire before he added water to it."

"So, add the water first and it won’t catch fire?"

"Exactly. Once the water boils, you put the pasta in, and spices if you want them…"

They settled into a quiet rhythm, Rex working his way through the directions on the package _(honestly, Anakin, how_ did _you manage to set this on fire?),_ occasionally asking Obi-Wan for clarification when he ran into something he thought might cause a hazard of fire. Between the two of them, dinner was ready without further incident, and if Rex looked at the recipe and decided it didn’t have enough spices in it, well, it would make a pleasant change from the utter tastelessness of field rations.

"Anakin, dinner," Obi-Wan called into the tent where Anakin had disappeared. 

Anakin emerged immediately, datapad still in hand, scrolling absently with his flesh hand, and accepted the bowl Rex handed him without looking closely at the contents. "If only you had been this focussed on your studies in the Temple," Obi-Wan couldn’t help teasing him.

Anakin took his first bite of noodles with an acknowledging hum, and then spluttered, choked, and started coughing. It took him a few minutes to manage, "What the kriff did you put in this, Master?"

Obi-Wan took a bite of his own food, and enjoyed the pleasant _heturam_ that non-Mando’ade so often failed to reproduce. Beside him, Rex, who had tucked in with appetite, looked slightly alarmed. "Spices?" they asked in unison.

Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan, who took another experimental bite and nodded approvingly. "How is your mouth not on fire, Master?"

"S’called _heturam,_ General," Rex said with his mouth full. "Supposed to taste like that."

"Mouth-burn," Obi-Wan obligingly translated, seeing Anakin’s confusion. "And it is supposed to taste like that. It’s a Mandalorian thing."

"Of course it is," Anakin muttered, rolling his eyes and making a show of turning back to the datapad, though he wasn’t scrolling down, and eventually gave up on the pretence in favour of blowing on his bowl of noodles. 

"Ignore him, Rex," Obi-Wan said firmly. "He has no appreciation for the finer things in life."

"Noted, General," Rex said, and turned his attention back to his food. The war was waiting for them, in the form of Anakin’s abandoned datapad and the chip in Obi-Wan’s belt pouch, but for now they had a respite, and spicy noodles, and time for Kenobi and Skywalker to snark at each other like the brothers they were. The war could wait a little while longer. And if Anakin ceded the cooking fire to Rex and Obi-Wan the next time they made camp, well, that was between him and the Force.


End file.
